Monday, February 19, 2018

Sneak Preview from You, Me, Us, Them – Ebony and Ivory

Preacher stopped abruptly and turned around to kiss her on the bridge of her nose. Then the forehead. The chin. And later her plush lips.
He quickly turned her around and lifted up her skirt. He slapped her ass twice and pressed her back onto his torso. Kissing the back of her neck. Massaging her pussy. Groping her breasts and tonguing her earlobes until moans flew over the stillness of the air away from the faint of music blaring from the club.
He savagely pulled down her black thong and slipped off his belt. He tied her hands together with the belt and dropped to his knees between her legs. His tongue split the middle fold of the V-spot to circle around the pink pearl.


He licked, nibbled and sucked on the pearl with no hands. She loved every time he ate her out. He knew how she wanted it. She didn't want the excess biting, pressing, and sucking. All she wanted was his tongue to whirlwind on the pearl and nowhere else in that cir-cum-ference.
Multiple orgasms rattled her body as she collapsed on the sand. Noodle legged. Spreading her legs wide for him to take the altar in her temple.
"Come on, church boy. Fuck me like you love me." Mocha licked her lips and felt his wholeness inside her moments later.
He fucked her silly. Pants legs ringing around his ankles and all. She didn't want romance. She wanted a pounding. An A-1 Hulk Smash she wanted for months since the last time they saw each other.
Her body was still used to his and no one else's. No other guy knew the ins and outs of her body like him. He knew when to grind, thrust, stop, speed up, twist, turn, and switch positions before she could climax. He knew when to come without drying her up.
"I want you to cum in me. Cum in me, please. Please, daddy, cum in me." She breathed.
Her begging heightened his sensitivity to cum.
"Oh shit, oh shit! Here cums. Aaaaarrrrgh aaaaaah uuuuggggghh aaarrrrgh Fuck! Fuck!" He felt a rush powering from his balls to the shaft of his dick.
He let loose and seeded her walls. Creampie. Her favorite entree when they sexed each other. He didn't pull out as he kept going for another nut. Still hard. Still energetic. Still amped for another round.
Just the way she loved it.
He held her waist and rabbit fucked her to the point of no return. "Oh shit! Aaaaarrrrgh aaaaaah uuuuggggghh aaarrrrgh Fuck!"
Even then he didn't pull out.
He fucked her balls deep for a third and final nut until she drained him dry.

Pre-order You, Me, Us, Them on eBook @

Saturday, February 17, 2018

Advice for Newbies in the Swing Lifestyle

*** Some Game for Newbie Guys ***

Words from your favorite author...

1. Be Patient

Some chicks won't fuck with you UNTIL they get to know you and see you @ a few parties

2. Don't Expect Much @ Parties

Expectation is the mother of disappointment

3. Stay Out the Inbox

Chicks already have it in their mind that you a creep when they don't know you unless they hit YOU up first

4. Hit up Meet and Greets

Familiarity breeds contempt, but it also makes people pay more attention to you when they see how you move

Which also means your posts in groups will get more love because headz actually saw you in-person #NoCatfish

5. Don't Voice Your Opinions in Someone Else's Beef

Mind your business unless you with the shits

6. Link up with a REPUTABLE veteran to learn the ins and outs of the Lifestyle

Every master was a student first

7. "Do The Knowledge"

In other words...look, listen and observe instead of going hard around unfamiliar people

8. If you're local, take your time to get your feet wet

9. If you're out of town, approach as many chicks as possible without seeming thirsty

You might not see them again, but be discrete about it because bad news travel faster thanks to social media

10. Approach the man in a couple if you wanna play with his woman

Every couple has their own rules, but that's the universal etiquette of the Lifestyle

Aight, I'm Audi 5G

Peace and Afro Grease

Nah'Sun the Great @

Thursday, February 15, 2018

Looks and Money verses Personality

A man is traditionally viewed as the bread winner. So a lot of times a woman’s financial situation is not important. For example…

A chick could look like a monster. But if she walks around with a phat ass and/or nice body then most dudes will holler. This might not stand true in isolated situations, but I’ve seen this through observation majority of the time.

A dude can look like Mr. Universe. But if ol' boy uses a metro card for primary transportation, stays @ home with ma dukes, and don’t have money in his pockets, then his chances are slim.

Don’t believe me? Well, finance is the NUMBER ONE reason why people divorce in America. Those dead green guys play a big role in securing a relationship.

Besides, a wise woman once said, "love don’t pay the bills"

You might say what I've described is superificial. Maybe you have a's nothing but sexual politics to me.

Women are probably the number one reason why guys want success...the main motivator…I must admit this as a man, but P.U.S.S.Y makes the world go ‘round

Check what Tony had told Manolo in Scarface

"First you get the money…then power…and last women." 

It’s only a movie, but that thought applies to the real world.

Another example…this time I’m gonna hit the college scene.

Athletes and fraternities are considered the cream of the crop on campus, at least socially. I’ve seen lame ass dudes who couldn’t get ass if their lives depended on it. But soon as they pledged a fraternity or got some publicity on a sports team, them same girls who shitted on them were throwing the booty hardcore left and right

Sororities have their groupies, but not on the same level as fraternities. Looks STILL count no matter how much power a woman holds. I doubt dudes would wanna sleep with Martha Stewart over Buffie The Body or Carmen Electra…LOL

On the other hand, you have millionaire, or even billionaire men, who aren't attractively challenged date some of the most gorgeous women known to man.

BUT…I’m gonna contradict myself and play devil’s advocate.

Women who are viewed as “dimes” to the majority can appear ugly with a stank personality. Women who are viewed as “average looking” to the majority can appear as “dimes” with style and a magnetic personality.

It’s not about how she looks on the outside as much as how she is as a person. Unless she's the trophy chick. I’ve seen highly attractive looking women get passed up for average looking women on the strength of swag and sense of style…when I say style, I don’t mean caking your face with pounds of make up and rocking the most expensive gear as possible.

A woman with a big ass, large breasts, wide hips, etc. can only get her so far in love. At the end of the day, if a woman fails to develop any kind of communicative skill with an attracting personality then she's only a trophy or fuck buddy...true story.

If you think you’re too skinny, I suggest eating the right foods and workout in the gym.

If you think you’re overweight, I suggest hitting the gym and watching your diet. My advice is more so about health and grooming your appearance than laws of attraction. What you think about yourself on the inside can affect how people think of YOU on the outside.

It’s kinda like the theory of "it’s not WHAT but HOW a person said it"

The same goes with men…

Grindin and hustling LEGALLY is important. This has nothing to do with bagging females per se, but more so with learning responsibility and doing your own thing.

If you don’t wanna work a 9-to-5, then research how to run a business and possibly set-up a vendor on the street. Cats get hella loot by selling oils, books and other items…they have 125th Street in Harlem on lock

I’ve said enough…hit a brotha up if I left out some points.

Aight, I'm Audi 5000

Peace and Afro Grease

Nah'Sun the Great @

Wednesday, February 14, 2018

Sneak Preview from You, Me, Us, Them – Cheerleading for Orgasms

Tara looked away to check out the time on her alarm clock. "My roommate has evening classes back-to-back, and I don't have cheer practice until later this evening. You have condoms?"
"Shit! I didn't bring any. I didn't think I was going to see you today."
"Right." Tara looked disappointed until she asked, "Are you clean?"
"I take a test every 3 months without fail."
"Good. I'm clean also, and I trust you. Just pull out when you're about to cum. I can't afford to get pregnant."
Preacher erected from thinking about cumming on her. "Face, ass, or tits?"
"Anywhere you want." Tara got undressed from her crimson and cream cheerleading outfit and lay on her bed.
He eased on top and kissed her from feet to forehead until she got wet for him to enter. They got busy until he pulled out to cum on her face. Busting a phat load. Shocking the hell out of her from the amount of cum he let off. He wiped her face with his hand to feed her his nut. She licked and swallowed every drop. Proudly submitting to him after vowing she would never let a man do such a thing to her.
All it took was the right guy to come along.
No pun.

Pre-order You, Me, Us, Them on eBook @

Wednesday, February 7, 2018

Sneak Preview from You, Me, Us, Them – The Cougar

The oldest woman he'd ever laid with was a 50-year-old. Bi-centennial pussy. She'd taught him everything he knew about sex. From Tantric to sex positions to not cumming too fast from anxiety.
And then there was Ms. Yarboro...
...a college professor from the great state of California.
Sunshine, palm trees, bomb weed, and all that good shit.
Niccolo took real estate courses after graduating from ROTC and was smitten by Ms. Yarboro. Mainly because of her light brown eyes. She also took a liking to him, and sometimes flirted with the man who was 20 years her junior. That didn't matter because he was still legal to play ball.
Ms. Yarboro would sometimes sneak glances at him. Smiling when they caught eye contact. Giggling every time he walked past. Flirting whenever he asked questions about one of the lessons.
Then she got personal one day after class.
"Niccolo, are you married? I'm asking for a friend." Ms. Yarboro's gaze told him that she'd asked for herself.
"I'm married to the game, Professor Yarboro."
"A player, eh? And please, call me Denise."
"Something like that...Denise. How'd you guess?"
"I see how the ladies in class look at you... gossip about you." Ms. Yarboro was turned on by his cockiness. "Have you ever dated an older woman before?"
"Of course, Ms. Yarboro. I have a question tho...are you hitting on me?" Niccolo stepped closer to the podium where Ms. Yarboro stood.
"What if I said yes?"
Niccolo dick got hard. "I never got hit on by my friend's mother before. Let alone a professor. I wouldn't mind taking a sip of my favorite wine that ages gracefully."
"Such a charmer." Ms. Yarboro's nipples hardened as heat rushed between her legs.
Her pussy moistened...
...and she wanted to fuck him right then and there.
She put that impulse on ice and teased him instead. "I'll see you next week, honey." She winked at her padawan and left the classroom.
I'ma get her, Niccolo thought, but didn't know when he’d actually sniff the panties.
A few weeks passed by with more flirting, touching, and glances unbeknown to everyone except Dell, who also took the same real estate course because of his mother's insistence.
That mother being Ms. Yarboro.
"How you doing in the class, Nick?" Dell whispered while his ma dukes was knee deep in the lesson.
"So far so good. Just need to make time to study for the big test this week."
"Cool. So what you think about my mom?"
Niccolo thought the question was a bit weird. "She's cool."
"She's been helping me with my homework. She could help you too, you know. Help you pass."
"Nah, I'm good."
"You sure?"
"Yes, Dell, I'm sure." Niccolo chuckled, and shook his head at Dell's annoyance before focusing back on the lesson.
Niccolo didn't wanna tell Dell about whether he wanted to knock her off. He rarely kissed and told, if never. Even if that meant hoarding info from his crew.
"Act like you got pussy before." Uncle Bo had told a young Niccolo years prior when Niccolo told the whole school he'd finger popped this chick on the swings in a park.
After Ms. Yarboro dismissed the class, she beckoned Niccolo to walk to the professor table. Niccolo told Dell he'd catch up with him later. Dell looked on suspiciously before going about his business.
The second Niccolo reached her desk and the door closed, he found his tongue in her mouth. 
Tonguing. Slobbing. Rubbing faces. Licking each other's mouths like scrapping the last of the pudding.
Niccolo aggressively turned Ms. Yarboro around and pulled up her skirt. She wore no panties. Just black thigh high stockings.
He unbuckled his belt and whipped out his dick as his pants dropped to the floor. He kneeled behind her and ate her out to get her wet. Running laps around the clit clockwise. Sucking the clit and the flaps of the pink at the same time. After several minutes of licking the phat of the cat and tongue fucking her, she glossed over him when he stood and tapped his knob on the kitten.
"Stop teasing me and fuck me." Ms. Yarboro turned her neck to look behind her.
She instantly got wet when she felt him gut-deep. Her pussy muscles clutched onto him. Gorilla grip. It was a minute since she got blazed. Damn near a year. Her knees wobbled and her toes curled in black heels. She nutted in a matter of seconds from her first feel of a long, warm dick in months.
"Oh yesssss." Ms. Yarboro hissed as her neck jerked from each thrust he served her.
"You want it?" Niccolo held her waist with slow, long strokes.
"Yes, baby. Yes."
"How bad you want it?"
"How bad?"
"Real bad."
"I want you to gimme an A for this."
"You gotta gimme 100 percent dick for that A, baby."
"And what else?"
"I'll pass you if you keep fucking me like this."
"You said nothing but a word." Niccolo gripped her breasts from the back and drilled her with ass-popping thrusts.

Pre-order You, Me, Us, Them on eBook @

Monday, February 5, 2018

You, Me, Us, Them - the Swinger Chronicles


Some dream about it. Some indulge. The rest are curious about introducing themselves to the swing culture.

You, Me, Us, Them is a thorough examination of the Lifestyle commonly known to swingers as the LS. As couple swapping is generally frowned upon in mainstream society, the story of Niccolo and Katt takes you on a trip through the good, the bad, and the ugly for vets and newbies alike to avoid the pitfalls of the LS while engaging in sexxxplosive fantasies between 60 chapters of no filler.

You'll learn words of the LS such as unicorn, bull, chocolate, and vanilla that don't have anything to do with ice cream and animals.

You, Me, Us, Them serves as a vetting process of a secret society where codes, ethics, and principles are expected to be abided by between couples and singles in a close-knit community that distinguishes itself from people who merely engage in sex parties.

Common SIDE EFFECTS may include horniness, booty calls, random texts, addiction, insomnia, and pillow talking among friends about how damn good the book is after you finish reading.

Feel the blaze, a Nah'Sun blaze

Tuesday, January 16, 2018

Urban/Street Fiction: Trash for Cash?

What's woody wood, grasshoppers?

The Coldest Winter Ever had changed the face of Black Literature.


Because a lot of young, Black readers, according to statistics from inner city mom and pop book stores, are no longer interested in books by James Baldwin, Toni Morrison, Ralph Ellison and others from similar style of writings.

Every Black author who writes street novels need to thank Sistah Souljah because there was NO market for street novels before she dropped "The Coldest…"And they also need to thank Sistah Souljah for giving them a plot to write about since it seems like every urban fiction writer tries to recreate the same theme of her cult classic novel.

I remember shopping for books at Barnes and Noble back in high school and Donald Goines was probably the ONLY street novelist that dominated the shelves. Remind you, this was back around '99-2000.

Fast forward to 2008, and urban/street novels dominate the shelves. I call this, "The Sistah Souljah Effect". This era of street fiction reminds me when “Chick lit” was popular in the 1990's with books by Eric Jerome Dickey, Omar Tyree, and Terry McMillan dominating the scene.

But what disappoints me about upcoming Black writers (which I can also say about upcoming rappers) is that damn near EVERY street novel follows the same formula. The storylines and plots are basically the same:

1. Girl leaves home for big city/has abusive home life/raped by uncle, father, father figure/cousin/dad/someone

2. Winds up a stripper/ho/numbers runner/drug addict/drug dealer

3. Has unprotected sex/gets murdered/becomes a player or playette/baller

4. Boyfriend is either in jail/numbers runner/drug dealer/pimp

5. Either ends up: dead/own business/getting away from her past life

I’m not one of those uppity, self-righteous negroes who says (in nasal voice), "Street novels are ruining the images of Black people and quality of literature."

For the record, I LOVE tales about the streets; the drama, sex, violence and crime interest me. FEDS, ASIS and Don Diva magazines are my favorite joints, and those mags are street oriented.

But I always tell people; if you decide to write about the hood AT LEAST make your story DIFFERENT from what everyone else are writing. And I don’t even want to touch on the flood of spelling and grammatical errors. 

Good Laaaaaawd 

Readers need to demand thorough editing in books and the sharp use of grammar from novelist without the urge of wanting to grab a red pen to mark mistakes while reading. I’m not striving to “throw salt” in anyone’s game by down talking Black writers, but what saddens me is when I see wasted potential go down the drain when books display half hearted editing with unoriginal storylines.

However, street literature "speaks" the same language as their target audience (18-25 years of age) and provides an alternative from novels that appeal to the 30-45 age market. People who normally don’t read crave urban lit and the books generally serve as a tool to grab non-readers. On the other hand, what’s the use of speaking to an audience’s language without giving them some sort of food for thought?

The underlying problem is not street literature, but rather the lack of balance in the mainstream. If I want candy and potato chips, why can’t I ask for fruits and vegetables?

Fiction lacking substance are pushed harder than books that educate and entertain the public. While novelists need to grind hard to push their product, they also need a platform to display their literary talent. Not saying street literature fails to drop jewels, but there’s a thin line between writing realism and exploiting the underworld and its pitfalls, especially when writers dumb down for dollars.

Aight ya'll, I'm Audi 5000

Peace and Afro Grease

Nah'Sun the Great @